As I was about to pick up my cellphone, now trembling in my hand after hearing the shocking news, I heard Sylvia’s voice mumbling something, and the call abruptly ended.

I thought I remembered what she had said, but the details were hazy.

What I had just heard was so shocking that my mind felt blank.

Half-conscious, I staggered towards the sofa and collapsed onto it.

Could it be that I misheard everything?

I briefly tried to deny reality, but as I recalled Sylvia’s voice, I had no choice but to accept that what I heard had truly happened.

Uncle was dead.

He had taken his own life.

“…Why?”

That single word that slipped out of my mouth best expressed my feelings in that moment.

After all, it hadn’t even been a few days since I saw his face.

I could still vividly remember his encouraging words before we parted.

But Uncle had committed suicide.

Not being able to fathom the reason, I leaned back against the sofa, repeatedly mumbling, “Why?”

—

“…Scarlet, I’m here.”

With a ring, Sylvia’s voice echoed from beyond the front door.

What could she want here?

…I think I heard her mention she would come before the phone call was cut off.

I got up from the sofa and made my way to the front door, swaying a bit as I opened it.

As I opened the door, I saw Sylvia’s face filled with sorrow.

It seemed the news of Uncle’s death was difficult for her to accept, too.

What should I say to comfort her? As I was lost in thought, she asked me.

“…Scarlet, are you okay?”

That question made me realize.

Her concern showed that my expression wasn’t pleasant, which only added to the chaos in her heart.

Clearly, this wasn’t a situation where I could offer her comfort.

Wishing to not worry her, I tried to respond, but instead—

“…Why did Uncle have to die?”

The question that had been filling my mind came out instead of the typical “I’m okay.”

With a sorrowful expression, Sylvia murmured in response to my question.

“…Let’s go inside. I’ll explain once we’re in.”

At her words, I let her inside.

Once within the house, after settling us across from each other at the dining table, Sylvia hesitated briefly before speaking up.

“Um, Scarlet. This might be a difficult conversation, but please try to stay calm and listen. Actually, yesterday—”

That’s how I heard about everything that happened yesterday.

The discussion about the witch turning to weaponization during the meeting, and how Sylvia and Yoon Si-woo teamed up with Uncle to deceive others so that my story wouldn’t come out.

After hearing all of that, I finally understood why I had been questioning Uncle’s suicide in such solitude.

Indeed.

That was it.

“Then… Uncle died because of me…?”

I stupidly blurted out the realization that hit me.

As I said it, something inside me boiled over.

As that emotion rose from deep within, I twisted my face and mumbled.

“Uncle died because of me… uh, uhh…”

Mixed with my distorted expression was a blend of laughter.

Or perhaps it was sobbing, but that wasn’t what mattered.

What mattered was that one person had crossed an irreversible river because of me.

“Uh, because of me… ugh, because of me…”

Another person had been made unfortunate because of me.

This damned existence of mine had driven someone else to misery again.

So I sneered, scoffed, and loathed myself as I cried out against that very existence.

“Because of a thing like me—!!!”

With a sharp clap, the sound echoed.

As I came to my senses, I felt a sharp pain on my cheek.

Turning my head slowly to face forward, I saw Sylvia glaring at me with a mix of sorrow and anger.

On the hand that had struck my cheek, a familiar light was shining.

…Feeling as if my emotions had settled a little would suggest it was a calming spell.

As I stared blankly at Sylvia, she placed her hand on my cheek and murmured.

“…I’m sorry for hitting you without asking. But, Scarlet, please don’t say such things about someone like you being the cause of anyone’s death. You shouldn’t dismiss it so casually, especially not regarding Uncle Luke’s death…”

Tears welled in her eyes as she gently stroked my cheek.

In a quivering voice, she asked me.

“Think about it. When you were taken by the witch to save us, did you ever blame us for putting you in that position?”

I slowly shook my head at her example.

It was such a personal and fitting analogy.

I quickly realized that I shouldn’t have said what I did.

Uncle wouldn’t have wanted me to blame myself like that, either.

With Sylvia gazing at me as if asking if I understood now, I hung my head.

It was an apology to her and to Uncle.

“…I won’t say such things from now on.”

Upon my apology, Sylvia took out a handkerchief to wipe her eyes, then retrieved an envelope from her pocket and handed it to me.

“…I’m sorry, too. I should have given this to you sooner, but I was so flustered.”

“…What is this?”

“…It’s a letter that Uncle Luke left for you. He asked me to deliver it to you.”

I inhaled slightly at the nature of the letter she revealed.

The lightweight envelope suddenly felt unbearably heavy.

As I opened it slowly at Sylvia’s urging gaze, I took a deep breath due to an inexplicable tension.

What if this letter contained resentment towards me?

But the first line of the letter read,

“I’m sorry, Scarlet.”

It began with an apology addressed to me.

“This letter being delivered means you’ve heard about my news. You probably must be shocked. For that, I want to apologize.”

In fact, I was shocked.

But since he had started with an apology, I, being understanding, decided to forgive him.

“I also wish you didn’t blame yourself for my death, even though your kind heart might lead you to think otherwise. I hope you will not do that; you have done nothing wrong.”

…How did he know my personality so well?

I couldn’t help but smile a little at the absurdity of it all, and I chuckled at his remark that I had done nothing wrong.

Yeah, I smiled. Definitely not because I was about to cry.

“Anyway, my choice may seem extreme to you. Therefore, I’d like to share a bit of my story to help ease your guilt.”

I focused as I read the next line.

“The truth is, I didn’t have long to live. I held a sickness that spread throughout my body for a long time. It was at an irreversible level. Scarlet, stress is truly the primary culprit in destroying one’s body.”

Surprised by the unknown truth, I took a slight breath.

“Well, in my case, I neglected the illness due to stress. Scarlet, as you know, I’ve done a lot of bad things, right? I realized my illness was caused by stress but just left it alone. I thought it was divine punishment for my actions.”

…Uncle’s face had grown increasingly pale each time we met.

I used to think it was due to various issues, but it seemed it was actually because his sickness had progressed.

“I was in pain in the past. I couldn’t bear the guilt of the wrongs I committed against you and the other children before you. Perhaps if I hadn’t encountered you, I would have lived my life filled with regrets.”

Uncle was likely in greater pain due to the fact that he was a doctor.

He used the skills honed to save lives for a completely unrelated and severe duty.

From the tightly written script, I could feel the weight of the guilt he had been carrying.

“But then, I met you, and my life changed. Scarlet, you gave meaning to my life, which was once filled with regrets.”

It felt a bit strange.

The connection between the name Scarlet and the notion of life’s meaning.

“I had hoped to be kind to you, to be a protector of people, but that wish was merely selfish. Yet you truly became that person. You probably don’t realize how much of a salvation that was for me. Because of you, I was happy.”

Could my actions truly have had such significance to Uncle?

…I wasn’t sure.

However, the fact that Uncle had been happy because of me.

Why did that make my heart ache so much?

“I wanted to repay that debt even a little. Therefore, I made this choice, hoping to use my remaining life in a way that could aid you, the meaning of my life. I’m sorry for being selfish till the end. But please understand.”

Seeing those words made me think that perhaps Uncle and I shared some similarities.

“…I intended to write only a little about myself, but it turned into something lengthy as I went on. I’ve never written a letter before, so I’m not sure how to conclude. Well, I’ll just write a few more words and end it.”

After witnessing that lack of composure, I decided to cancel my thought of having similarities with Uncle.

That’s because I realized there was someone else whom Uncle resembled.

“Perhaps you’ll face many hardships ahead. Yet, I believe that you can overcome them all. Hang in there.”

Uncle sounded like my father.

There were subtle similarities between me and him.

The encouragement to live strongly and be happy at the end.

The fact that he left to protect me.

“And finally.

And finally.

“Be happy, Scarlet.”

Both of them were likely wishing for my happiness.

“Ah…”

There were no further contents in the letter.

Even if there were, I would have been unable to read on.

“Ahh… Ugh… Huh…”

With a soft thud, tears streamed down my face and spilled onto the letter, blurring the words.

I felt an overwhelming pain in my chest as tears continued to flow uncontrollably.

It was truly strange.

When I think about it, he was someone I hadn’t seen that many times, not even a true parent.

Yet, the sadness I felt rivaled what I felt when my true parents passed.

After thinking for a moment, I realized.

There were others besides me who felt sorrow over Uncle’s death.

What did Uncle mean to Scarlet?

He was the one who brought her into this world,

He was the one who named her.

To Scarlet, Uncle was likely as good as a father.

“Aah… Ugh… Waaah…”

So it wasn’t strange for Scarlet to grieve over her father’s death.

I decided unabashedly to express the sorrow I felt.

Sylvia, who had come closer, embraced me tightly.

Buried in her warmth, I cried for a long while.

—

“Are you feeling a bit calmer now?”

Sylvia gazed at me with worried eyes as she asked.

It was understandable for her to be concerned.

After all, I had been crying like a baby.

A bit embarrassed, I blushed and nodded.

But it seemed Sylvia was worried about more than just that.

“…What about the letter? It’s completely soaked.”

She murmured as she looked at the letter, now illegible due to my tears.

Since this was a memento left for me by Uncle, it must have troubled her to see it ruined.

“It’s okay. About that.”

“But…”

“It really is fine.”

I spoke as if it didn’t matter and picked up the letter.

Then, I opened the window and set fire to the soaked letter.

Sylvia gasped in surprise.

But it didn’t matter.

After all, the contents of the letter were already deeply etched in my mind.

It was a debt I couldn’t repay; how could I ever forget?

I would likely have to live my life forever repaying that debt.

Not for the one who died because of me, but for the one who died for me.

As the letter burned, sending its smoke up to the sky,

I could almost hear Uncle’s words encouraging me to be strong and to find happiness.

That’s how I will live.

With that promise in my heart, I smiled with all my might at Uncle, who I knew was watching over me from somewhere.